Hello, and welcome to Lemonade Tales! Pardon the dust while I get things rolling. I hope you enjoy the stories of inspiration, courage, and grace. I am humbled by each and every person and their personal struggles. This is the …

“How much do you want to know?” My brother’s wife, Brandi asked me. I said, “Tell me everything. You have opened this box and now I need to know.”

Her words, ”I think your father lives two hours from you,” echoed in my ears.

You’re kidding me. I moved all the way to North Carolina from Michigan less than a year ago, only to learn that my biological father lived a mere two hours away. Holy shit!

Now, I am not a swearing kinda woman, but seriously… Holy Shit!

I actually needed a minute to comprehend what she was saying. For the first time in my life, I knew where he was for sure. Up until that point I thought he was dead or in jail. He was dead to me. But now, he was very much alive. I had a decision to make: To forget that I knew this information, or use it to meet him.

It took me five months to make this very life-altering decision. Or maybe it was the time it took to gather the courage. You don’t know how many times I thought about it and how many times I said, “I am just not ready.” Too many to count. But then one day, I was ready. I knew I had to meet him. I had to for a number of very personal reasons.

1. It was hanging over my head—and I simply couldn’t forget what I knew.

2. I never want fear to dictate how I live my life or stand in the way of growth.

3. I never want to have to live with the possible regret of not meeting him if he passed away.

4. I had questions. Lots of questions that needed answering.

People who are adopted never forget they are adopted. I have a very crooked family tree. I love my adopted family, but you always know you are not one of them. You don’t look like anyone else in the family. You don’t see yourself in their eyes. And you always wonder, What is my bio parent like?Do I act like them, do I look like them, and do I sound like them? You get used to not looking like people in your adopted family. You even forget about being adopted sometimes. But you always do seem to end up remembering. It can be something someone says, or when you talk about your past, someone brings it up. You can’t run away from it and that’s okay. Being adopted certainly helps to shape who you are. It also never changes how much I love my adopted family and how much they mean to me.

Ultimately, I felt that if I didn’t do this—meet my father—that it would continue to hang over my head. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I was in some control of the situation with him. I couldn’t help that he left me, but I could control my destiny when it came to this information.

I actually feel like God pushed me to meet him. He sent me tons of signs, and it was time to listen. Time to not let my fear of being rejected again dictate my future. Time to set some things right. Time to make peace with an old demon. Time to make the myth of my father into a real man.